The beavers’ house was made of mud and sticks mixed with stones. Or, rather, it was being made. The beavers were still working at it.
“My, my,” said Father Thrift, “how very, very late you beavers work! Don’t you ever rest?
“I know you are very industrious. Nearly everybody knows that, as there is a familiar saying among us that an industrious person works like a beaver. But I never supposed that you worked all the time!”
“We don’t,” replied Mr. Beaver. “We work only at night. All of our work is done then. And I am ashamed to tell you that there are some beavers who do not wish to work at all.”
“So!” exclaimed Father Thrift. “I am surprised at that. And do they live here, too?”
“Oh, no,” said Mr. Beaver. “We have no place for lazy beavers, or ‘old bachelors,’ as we call them. Usually we cut their tails off and chase them away.”
“That is punishment enough,” said Father Thrift. “Still, lazy folks deserve no better. Wasting time is just as bad as wasting food, or money, or anything else.”
Then Father Thrift stopped to watch the interesting and wonderful ways of the wise beavers.